


Crawl Home

by deanniker



Series: Iron Maiden Joe AU [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Relationships, Dealing With Trauma, Healthy Communication, M/M, POV Nile Freeman, POV Outsider, Team as Family, allowing each other space, iron maiden joe, working through the issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanniker/pseuds/deanniker
Summary: “Yusuf?” Nicky breathes, and the man fires a blast into his chest.Nile winces - it’s gory, messy, he’ll be down for awhile - before his words catch up to her, and she whips her head around to stare at the man holding a gun on her family.She does recognize him, she realizes with a sinking feeling. She thought she’d just hadn’t had a dream about him in awhile, but she never made the connection between a man going about his mundane business in a store with the screaming one trapped under the ocean that had been haunting her. She just thought he was a random face plucked from her memories.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nile Freeman & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Series: Iron Maiden Joe AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996552
Comments: 265
Kudos: 967





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Work Song by Hozier because at the end of they day I am very basic.
> 
> I promise this will have a happy ending but it will take them time to work through the issues 🙏🙏🙏

Nile’s first thought, when she raises her eyes and has to make eye contact with a double barreled shotgun - is embarrassingly, not to wonder who the man holding it is, or where she left her gun, but to think  _ but I was really enjoying this pizza.  _

Maybe that means she’s finally getting used to this immortality thing, which is something she’s been waiting for for two years, but not particularly helpful at the moment. But at least no one else seems to be doing any better. Andy and Quỳnh have frozen, slices held comically close to their open mouths, and Booker is choking on his wine. Nicky’s chair overturns as he gets to his feet, but he doesn’t move any more than that once the intruder swings his gun toward his chest. “Yusuf?” Nicky breathes, and the man fires a blast into his chest. 

Nile winces - it’s gory, messy, he’ll be down for awhile - before his words catch up to her, and she whips her head around to stare at the man. 

She does recognize him, she realizes with a sinking feeling. She thought she’d just hadn’t had a dream about him in awhile, but she never made the connection between a man going about his mundane business in a market with the screaming man trapped under the ocean that had been haunting her. She just thought he was a random face plucked from her memories.

“Yusuf,” Quỳnh confirms. She sounds delighted. Beside her, Andy stays quiet, looking up at Yusuf with that terrifying calculating stare of hers. 

“Hello Quỳnh,” Yusuf says, swinging the shotgun to level it at the pair of them. “Andromache.”

His voice isn’t as deep as Nile imagined it. It has a raspy, sandy quality to it. It’s a nice voice. 

Andy and Quỳnh exchange looks. Beside her, Booker clears his throat - he’s finally stopped trying to breathe wine. “How long have you been out?” he asks. 

“About six months,” Yusuf says. 

“Why didn’t you come home?” Quỳnh asks. “Nicolò -”

Yusuf snarls, and Quỳnh’s mouth snaps shut. Another look to Andy - Nile is getting better at reading the team’s silent communication, but even a stranger could see the helpless confusion in Quỳnh’s eyes. 

Nicky stirs on the ground next to Nile. He’s usually quiet when he comes back, until he knows he’s recovered enough to fight again. A precaution, he told Nile once, in case there were enemies close by. This time he whines, gurgles on blood in his throat that hasn’t been healed yet. “Yusuf?” he calls. There are tears streaming down his face, but he’s smiling as he pulls himself up to his knees by using Nile’s chair. “Yusuf?”

The gun swings around when Nicky’s head clears the table, and he freezes. Nile watches him swallow, over and over again, when he realizes that there is still a gun pointed at him. “What?” he croaks. “What are you doing, my love?”

“Oh, is that what I am?” Yusuf spits. “Forgive me for being confused - I thought a man that loved me would be searching for me.”

Nicky pales, and he starts to murmur in the amalgamation of Arabic and Italian that he uses when he really gets stressed. Nile could only hope to understand the Italian parts - when she asked Nicky to teach her Arabic he shook his head and smiled as he said  _ that will be Yusuf’s to teach you.  _ He’s speaking too fast for her to understand anything at all.

“Stop,” Yusuf directs. “I’m not here for you.” Nicky shuts his mouth with a click. He staggers to his feet, breathing harshly as he stares at Yusuf from across the table. 

“Yusuf,” Quỳnh tries, stretching her hands out towards him. “Yusuf, please…”

“I’m not here for you either, Quỳnh,” Yusuf says. “I’ll forgive you in time but you sent me away to combat heresy with nothing but that  _ crusader  _ for company.”

“That’s not the way it was,” Nicky protests. “You trusted me, you loved me -”

“I did,” Yusuf says. “And look where that got me.”

Nicky sways where he stands, and he reaches out. Yusuf shoots him again, this time right in the face. Nile manages to raise her arm fast enough to catch most of the blood on her sleeve.

Andy is the one to break the silence that follows. “Why are you here, then?”

“For the new one.” To Nile, he adds, “I saw what you had to do, to get them out of the lab, and you know what happened to me. These people can’t keep you safe.”

“Oh, and you can?”

Yusuf’s grip on the gun wavers, and he looks at her properly for the first time, eyes wide and wild. “You do not have to be with these people. You do not have to fight.”

Nile may not know him, but she’s shared enough space with unstable people that she can recognize when a person who doesn’t want to hurt her starts to lose their grip on a situation. He wasn’t planning on having to convince her. It’s kind of rude, that he thinks she isn’t satisfied with her choice to stay with this family - that he thinks she needs rescuing, or something. But she’s going to go to school next fall, and she doesn’t have much time to work on what she needs to here, and had been planning on striking out on her own anyway. Andy and Quỳnh didn’t like the idea at first, but she talked them around. This isn’t how Nile would have planned her departure, but if it keeps Nicky from getting another face full of buckshot she can hang out with this guy for a while. 

“Alright,” she says. “Let me pack a bag.”

“Hey, come on now,” Booker says. 

Nile smiles at him. “It’s fine. Can I pack a bag?”

Yusuf nods. “Quickly.”

The duffel she uses is still mostly full, so she just grabs her toothbrush and phone, whatever else she sees lying around. It doesn’t take long. Nicky is still dead, though his skull is starting to knit itself together. 

“How come I don’t get an invitation?” Booker asks. 

Yusuf laughs. “You think I want to spend more time with a man I have seen drink himself to death on a weekly basis for the past two hundred years?”

Booker laughs a little too. “Fair,” he allows. 

Yusuf cocks his head at her to move out, but Nile stands her ground. “I’d like to say goodbye, first.” Yusuf narrows his eyes, but nods. 

Nile hugs Andy and Quỳnh, waves off their you don’t have to do this. Booker claps her on the back, too hard, but it reminds her of her time as a Marine and she’s never once thought of telling him to stop. “Come on,” Yusuf says.

“I haven’t said goodbye to Nicky,” she tells him. 

Yusuf’s gun wavers again. He doesn’t say no, but this time Nile sees what’s in his eyes. It’s fear. She glances down at Nicky, still dead on the ground. There’s something going on that she doesn’t understand. She nods, and follows Yusuf out the door. 

There’s a car parked a fair distance away. Yusuf tosses the shotgun into the back seat and slides behind the wheel.“You know how to drive?” Nile asks.

“Does it make a difference?” Yusuf asks. It reminds Nile of Andy, a couple of years ago, blasé about a plane held together by duct tape. She smiles despite herself, and gets in the car. 

Yusuf does know how to drive - though he does it with a death grip on the steering wheel, hands at ten and two precisely. They head southeast, away from the Sierra Nevadas, and it takes Nile about twenty minutes to figure out how to connect her phone up to the stereo system. In that time, she gets roughly a billion texts from Andy and Quỳnh, both along the same lines of - tell Yusuf that if we don’t hear from you once a week will hunt him down and find a way to make his years under the ocean seem like pleasant memories, and a handful of texts from Booker telling her not to let that asshole give her any trouble. Nothing from Nicky.

“What’s your name?” Yusuf asks. 

“Nile. Nile Freeman.”

Yusuf smiles. It softens his face, makes him look a little less haunted. “A beautiful name,” he says. “A strong name.”

“And you’re Yusuf.”

“I’m trying Joe, now. This time is so informal. I think I like it.”

“Joe,” Nile says. 

Another text comes in from Quỳnh. Nile winces as she reads it - it’s harsh, coming from a woman who cried so hard the first time they told Nile about Yusuf that she was nearly sick.

“That is a textual message?” Joe asks. 

“A text,” Nile corrects. “From Quỳnh.”

“What does it say?”

“That she loves you, but if I don’t text back in the next thirty seconds she will find you and gut you like one of the fish that used to feast on the flesh of your body.”

Joe barks out a laugh. “Guess you’d better text back then.”

Nile does, sending, guys chill to Andy and Quỳnh, relax I’ve got it handled to Booker. She thumbs through to Nicky’s contact. Aside from Andy, he’s always texted her the least - the last thing he sent her was from a grocery store two weeks ago, when he asked her whether she felt more like beer or wine. Her screen goes dark before she can even begin to think of something to say. 

The others have known him for longer. She hopes they have a better idea of how to handle it. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Nile,” Joe says, and they speed off into the dusk. 

***

If Joe knows what texts are he’s got to know that they could be tracking her phone or that she could be sending them updates, but he doesn’t take it away or tell her to turn it off. 

Instead he lets her nap for a couple of hours, and when she wakes up halfway through the night asks her a pretty bland series of getting to know you questions. How old is she, what kind of music does she call this. “Are you a stranger in this country?” He asks, and hums when Nile says she’s from Chicago. “You been?” Nile asks, and is surprised when he laughs. He seems remarkably well adjusted for a man who spent the last 400 years drowning. Sure, he’s driving well under the speed limit, but he’s wearing jeans and a jacket, and he barely even has an accent. 

“I have food,” he says, passing her a plastic bag full of nuts and fruit. Nile prefers her road trip food to either be stuffed full of artificial sweeteners or oversalted garbage but she doesn’t complain. 

“You know, you’re a much politer kidnapper than Andy,” Nile observes. 

Joe slams on the brakes, and Nile braces herself on the dash, thinking oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, as the car fishtails to a halt along the side of the road. If it wasn’t three in the morning they’d have taken out god knows how many people. “The fuck?”

“This isn’t -” Joe stammers. “I would  _ never.”  _ He turns to her, eyes wide and frantic. “I would never lock you up somewhere away.”

Nile swallows hard. 

“Do you want to go back?” He asks. “I’ll take you back.” He shuts his eyes. “I’ll take you back,” he says, nodding. “I’ll take you back -”

Nile cuts him off. “Bad joke,” she says. “Sorry.”

Joe plants his elbows on the dash and buries his face in his hands. Nile reaches over and flicks the hazards on, pretends she doesn’t see Joe’s shoulders shaking. After a while he pulls himself together. He runs his hands over his face, sits up in his seat. “I should have asked,” he says. “I set up a cabin in Arizona, near Flagstaff. That’s where I was planning on taking us. Do you want to come with me?”

“Here’s the thing,” Nile says. “It was rude for you to come busting in thinking you know what’s best for me. But I want to go to college next fall, and it's hard to concentrate on essays and applications when everyone else is taking target practice. So as long as you’re not going to keep me from talking to the rest, I’ll stay with you.”

Joe nods. “Yes, of course.”

“Alright,” Nile says. “You also gotta take me to see the Grand Canyon.”

Joe smiles. “I will.”

“Then we’re cool,” Nile says. “But we gotta take the next exit, because that little orange light means this thing is almost out of gas.”

Joe squints at the dash, and curses under his breath. “I know that,” he mutters, in a way that suggests he did know, but he forgot.

Nile heads in and pays for the gas, grabs some chips and energy drinks for her. Joe doesn’t seem interested in stopping, and Nile has no interest in having to come back to life if he wraps the car around a tree. 

“I’ll drive,” Nile tells him when she gets back outside. “You should get some sleep.”

Joe lets her get behind the wheel, but he ignores her advice in lieu of trying the chips and spitting out her Monster. Eventually he does fall asleep, slumping against the window. He snores, pretty loudly. Nile hopes this is just because he’s vertical - sharing a space with him is going to be difficult if he’s like this all the time.

***

They make it to Flagstaff in far from record time. Joe won’t drive above 60, and he gets a strained look in his eyes whenever Nile pushes them past 70. But they hardly stop, only pulling over to get gas and food, so it’s still a pretty quick trip, all things considered. It’s dark when Joe pulls in front of a small cabin, and Nile collapses onto one of the beds in the corner and is asleep in seconds. 

When she wakes up, Joe isn’t inside, and Nile makes a tour of the cabin. 

It takes all of three minutes. The beds are on one side of a low wall, not fully separated from the rest of the cabin, which is just a dual kitchenette/living room area. It’s pretty standard as far as their living accommodations go - Nile can count the number of times she’s had a bedroom to herself on one hand. There is electricity and running water, an indoor bathroom, which honestly surprises her. Half of their safehouses are caves, or shacks where the toilet option is an outhouse. Nile is the only one bothered by this. So that’s a pleasant surprise, but when Nile checks her phone there’s no reception.

Joe is outside, sitting in an adirondack, face tilted up towards the sun. “How did you sleep?” he asks without opening his eyes. 

“Pretty good,” Nile tells him. “Gotta say, this place is better than I expected. Kinda surprised you know what a flush toilet is.”

Joe chuckles. “I’m not sure I like it. Relieving myself only a few paces from where I sleep.”

Nile rolls her eyes. “That’s what you all say.  _ I  _ don’t like having to freeze my ass off in the middle of the night every time I need to pee.”

Joe’s mouth tightens, whether it's from the mention of the others or because Nile should probably be more careful not to use words like  _ freezing _ or  _ drowning _ around him. The dreams would keep her shivering until Nicky brought her an extra blanket. Arizona isn’t the hottest place they could have ended up, but it’s early morning in September and already headed towards sweltering and she’s guessing that isn’t a coincidence.

“Nice place,” Nile says, to break the tension. “Doesn’t have internet though.”

Joe opens his eyes then, to squint at her. “This is… important?”

“Pretty important, yeah.”

“Very well,” Joe says. “I will get you the internet.”

Nile peers around at the evergreens stretching towards the sky, the dirt road. There’s some pretty impressive mountains in the distance, and absolutely nothing else. She doubts it’s possible.

They head into town later, to try the local service providers. It’s hopeless - they tell Nile the only way she’s getting internet out here is to move closer to town. Joe’s waiting outside, shoulders hunched and twitching every time a car speeds around the corner. Nile thanks them for the information and leaves. 

“Working offline will be fine for a while,” she tells Joe. “Might help me keep focused.”

They go to the library, and Nile downloads things onto her laptop that she’ll need to get started on her applications. Joe’s shoulders settle once they’re inside, and he spends the time scanning the titles of the books, hands stuffed into his pockets. There’s some paintings from local artists on the walls, and he stands in front of them and smiles, even if it’s a bit bemused when he’s looking at the abstract ones. 

He’s a wonderful artist, Nile remembers, or at least Nicky thought so. It was one of the things he told her, after her nightmares, so that she’d know more about him than his horrible fate. Nile gets them a library card, and checks out some of her comfort reads and a book on art history that is actually decent and not just some white guy’s excuse to talk about how great western civilization is. 

“Oh shit,” Nile says, when they’re exiting. “Can you read English?”

“Against my will,” Joe says. “It is a terrible language. So many broken rules, and I think it has only grown worse since I have been away. I must confess, I was very upset when the new one turned out to be French, but even angrier when I saw you. I think that rage is what finally gave me the strength to escape my prison.”

Nile chokes a little, before she sees his sly smile. Nile’s laugh sputters out of her. He’s funny, which is another thing Nicky told her, but Nicky always said these things while staring misty-eyed into the past, and she was sure some things had to be an exaggeration. 

“Well, you can teach me Arabic,” she tells him. “I asked Nicky to teach me -” Joe tenses, and Nile finishes, awkwardly: “but. He wouldn’t.”

Joe shuts his eyes and tilts his head back toward the sky, breathing deeply. When he looks back at her, his eyes are clear. “I will be happy to teach you,” he tells her. “Are you ready to go back?”

Nile shakes her head and finds them an art supply store - Joe is openly delighted by how fine the materials are for their price, and while he’s flipping through sketchbooks she texts the others. Quỳnh has finally stopped threatening Yusuf with bodily harm and is back to her usual exuberant self, sending Nile pictures of anything she stumbles across that she thinks Nile will like - which is most things. Andy has sent her a curt list of what she thinks Nile needs to know about Yusuf. Nile shakes her head when she sees that most of them are weaknesses in a fight. But some of the things she slips in are pretty touching. Wool makes his skin itch. Nile should ask him to make falafel. 

Booker lets her know he’s still working on all her fake documentation that she’ll need to apply to school.

She tells Quỳnh she loves the cats, texts Andy a bunch of emojis because she knows it will annoy her, and thanks Booker and reminds him about deadlines. She lets them all know that she’s not going to have steady reception for a while, but that she’ll check in at least once a week. 

Nicky still hasn’t texted. She looks at Joe, who’s moved on to examining the charcoal pencils. Nile still has no idea what to say, and slips her phone back into her pocket.

***

It’s easy, Nile finds, to slip into living with Joe. It shouldn’t be a surprise - less than 24 hours after she met the rest she was willing to risk everything for them, and what is being friends with a roommate compared to vaulting out of a fifteen story building and throwing away her previous life?

What surprises her is how sweet he is, all the time. Nile can’t imagine anyone going through what he did and coming out so generous. He jogs alongside her on her runs in the morning, experiments in the kitchen during the day so that he can cook her dinner later. He sits next to her while she struggles with word choice as she’s writing her essays, asks her leading questions that actually help. In return he shows her the landscapes and still lifes that he sketches. Nicky hadn’t been lying - they are wonderful, but he earnestly asks her for criticism, points out areas he isn’t happy with and asks her what she thinks.

Joe makes jokes about his time  _ away _ , as he puts it:  _ I wondered why the ocean was growing less salty over the years, but I could not have dreamed it would be to put it all in these chips of yours. _ But they don’t talk about it in a serious way. Joe doesn’t try to turn Nile into his therapist, but in a handful of weeks it becomes second nature to reach out with a grounding touch if he starts to feel confined, to always have hot tea ready for him when he gets out of the shower. Nile can’t help but think that things would be easier on him if he was with people who already knew him, but the others are another thing they don’t talk about. 

Joe doesn’t mind going in with her to town when she calls them, and he’ll even ask her if she wants to if it’s been a few days. She’s not sure what he gets out of the change of scenery, but she suspects it has something to do with latte art, which Joe finds equal parts ridiculous and charming. They’re regulars at this coffee shop now - the pastries are shit but the coffee is good, and it has a little outdoor seating area in the back, away from the traffic on the street where Joe can sit for hours without getting too antsy. 

“Is Joe there?” Booker asks Nile, after she’s made him promise  _ again _ not to bump her grades on her transcript. She’s getting into college on her own merit, never mind how ridiculous the others find it. 

Andy and Quỳnh always ask if they can talk to him, and the answer is always a shake of the head. Nile asks anyway. “Joe?” She calls over to him. “It’s Booker. He’d like to talk to you?”

Joe’s knee starts bouncing, but he gets up and walks to her table, holds out his hand. “Yeah, one sec,” Nile says in amazement, and hands it over.

Joe paces as he listens to whatever Booker is saying over the phone. The more stressed he is, the more active he gets, but Joe chuckles at something Booker says, and comes to a stop. He listens some more, says a few words back. At one point he flips his sketchbook open and jots something down. 

Nile doesn’t mean to snoop - it’s just nice to see him trying new things, even if it’s only murmuring a few quiet words into a phone. 

Joe straightens, all of a sudden. “No,” he spits, and tosses the phone to Nile as he disappears back into the coffee shop. Nile nearly drops it, and when she brings it up to her ears Booker is swearing. “Joe?” He asks.

“It’s me,” Nile says. 

“Shit,” Booker says. “Is he okay?”

He’s just inside, hasn’t bolted, and if he was really panicked Nile is pretty sure he’d have hopped the fence. “I think so,” Nile says. “What happened?”

“I asked him if he wanted to talk to Nicky. I thought, if he was willing to talk to me…”

Nile looks at Joe. He’s at the counter, ordering another coffee again. “I think he’s looking for a clean slate.”

“Yeah,” Booker says. “It’s just - I don’t know.”

“How is Nicky?” Nile asks.

Booker sighs. “Quiet.”

“He hasn’t texted me at all,” Nile confesses, and can’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

“That’s not about you, Nile,” Booker hurries to tell her. “He’s in shock. Last week he said he was going to start pesto and he just stood in front of the stove and watched the water boil off.”

“Okay,” Nile says, but she doesn’t feel any better. It’s one thing to know Nicky wouldn’t be angry at her, or jealous, or something - but it’s another thing to believe it.

“You’re doing okay?” Booker asks. 

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” They say their goodbyes, and Nile gathers up her things and heads inside. Joe passes her a to-go cup. He smiles at her, though it’s more apologetic than usual. 

“Will you help me pick out a phone?” he asks. “Booker said he would like to give me reading recommendations.”

“Sure,” Nile says, surprised and relieved that Booker’s question didn’t reverse any progress they’d made. 

“I know we just were at the library, but can we go back? He said I should try something called Calvin and Hobbes.”

Nile would have expected Booker to start with something horribly pretentious and French. She snorts. 

“What?” Joe asks. “Is it bad?”

“No, no,” Nile assures him. “You’ll love it.” It’s a great choice, she should have pointed him towards the comic section too. 

Joe checks out all the anthologies of Calvin and Hobbes the library has, and then they get him the biggest phone they can find. He holds it in one hand and pecks out “Hello Booker, this is Joe,” with the other. He fat-fingers nearly every letter and curses under his breath, but Nile is sure he’ll be able to adapt.

***

Less than a month after Joe and Booker start talking, Joe gets sick of living somewhere with no reception, and they start house-hunting for something closer to town. Their realtor assumes that they’re married, which makes them stare blankly at one another - but before Nile can correct her Joe winks at her, and they spend the rest of the day pretending to be newlyweds, calling each other increasingly sickening names, trying to see if the other will crack. At one point, the realtor steps out to take another call, and Joe turns to her and says, gleefully, “Let’s pretend we had a fight.”

“What?” Nile asks, but she’s already laughing. “About what?”

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you can think of?”

“I don’t know,” Nile says, looking around for inspiration. “Countertops?”

Joe claps his hands together and nods.

“Do you even know what the options are?” Nile asks. “Do I even know what the options are? I think granite is a thing? I think we just had laminate.”

“This is going to be a disaster,” Joe cackles. “Oh, she’s coming.”

Cindi’s definitely baffled by their turn, or maybe by everything they’re getting wrong while pretending to argue about things neither of them have any interest in, but she handles it like a professional. Nile didn’t really expect anything else from a woman who didn’t introduce herself as  _ Cindi with an I _ and allowed them to find that tidbit on their own from her business card. By the end of the day Nile and Joe have pretended to make up, and they have the keys to a small house on the outskirts of town. 

“How are we paying for everything?” Nile asks, as they get ready for bed. Joe has endless fistfuls of cash, but she’s never seen him use an ATM.

“I sold one of Andy and Quỳnh’s vases,” Joe says, flopping onto his bed. “I think I was underpaid. I’d never heard of something sold for a million anything, so I just said yes to the first offer.”

Nile whistles. “They’ll be pissed when they find out.”

He waves a dismissive hand at her. “I’ll just make sad eyes at them and make references to my watery grave.”

She considers this, and throws a pillow at his head. “You’re a little shit, Joe.”

He chuckles.

***

Their new house is close enough to bike to town. Nile has to teach Joe how to ride a bike, which might be the most surreal thing that’s ever happened to her. Even the first time she died and came back to life is nothing compared to running alongside a thousand year old man with her hand on his bike seat as he whoops and wobbles his way down the road.

He complains about how sore his ass gets but despite his whining and groaning, Joe takes to biking in a way he never did to driving. Nile suspects he appreciates the wind on his face - even as it starts to get cooler they bike into town instead of taking the car when Joe needs to return his library books or Nile starts itching for a change of scenery. He’s doing much better, gets fewer nightmares, and Nile doesn’t have to be on the lookout for the harsh breathing that signals an oncoming panic attack. 

At first Nile doesn’t notice that things have taken a different turn. Joe reads, watches tennis matches on TV, sketches, but one day Nile notices that he hasn’t called Booker for their usual book-club-rant discussions, and he finishes all the books he has but doesn’t take them back to the library to exchange them for new ones. His bouncing knees are back. 

Nile hopes that it will pass, that he’ll talk to Booker about it, or that Andy or Quỳnh will shake something out of him now that he’s texting them occasionally, but nothing changes and eventually Nile breaks down and asks him. 

“Joe?” she says over dinner. “Is something wrong?”

Joe’s knee starts bouncing again. He picks up his phone, and Nile sighs, but he slides it over to her. 

It’s the latest text from Booker. 

**He says he needs to talk to you and I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t think he was right.**

Nile passes it back to him. She wants to ask what happened between them, but she’s also not sure she actually wants to know. There’d never been any hint, from Nicky or the others, that things might have ended badly. Joe was always this empty space beside Nicky, just waiting to be filled, and Nile knows it can’t have been some kind of delusion on Nicky’s part - Andy and Quỳnh would never have tolerated that.

“I can’t,” Joe says. “I can’t.”

Nile puts her hand over his arm. “I think you should,” she says quietly. “You want to move forward with a clean slate, right? That’s why it's easier to talk to me and Booker?”

Joe nods.

“You’ll never get that if you ignore this.”

“I know,” Joe says. He reaches out and covers her hand with his. “Could you sit and listen with me? It isn’t fair for me to ask, but -.”

Nile swallows hard. “Okay,” she says. “Let Booker know.”

They schedule the call for the day after. Booker will call Nile’s phone, pass it off to Nicky, one more degree of separation. Joe is tense the whole day. He goes out for a run right after lunch and doesn’t come back until right before dinner. He showers, eats the sandwich Nile puts in front of him. Then he folds her hand up in both of his and nods, and Nile texts Booker that they’re ready. 

The call comes immediately. Booker says “Hey Joe, I’m handing you off now,” and Nile hears the shuffle of the phone being passed.

“Nile?” Nicky says.

Nile glances at Joe. His eyes are shut, and he looks pained, but his breath is steady and even. She clears her throat. “We’re here, Nicky,” she says. “Go ahead.”

“Hello, Joe,” Nicky says. “Thank you for speaking with me.” He pauses. “I’m so relieved that you are no longer suffering. I hope - that you are well, that you are happy in this new world you have found yourself in. It is all I have longed for these long years.”

He’s speaking very slowly. For whose benefit, Nile isn’t sure.

“I don’t understand fully, but - I accept that you do not - that - that things are not going to return to the way things were between us.”

Nicky breathes into the phone for a few long moments before he continues. “We were friends, before you forgave me enough to love me,” Nicky says, hushed. “Do you think we could have that again?”

Joe draws their hands up to his forehead and presses them hard against the frown there. He doesn’t say anything, and after a moment Nile hears a fumbling on the other end of the line, and sudden silence. “Nicky?” she asks, but there’s nothing. She checks the phone but the call is still going. She can’t look at Joe. 

“Sorry,” Nicky’s voice comes through suddenly after minutes of silence. “There must be a faulty connection,” which would clearly be bullshit even if Nile couldn’t hear how Nicky’s voice has gone thick. He takes a shaky breath. “I’m so grateful that you have Nile with you. She is so like you, and I know you must love her already. But Andy and Quỳnh miss you. They want to see you, and you should be able to meet Booker properly. If you are not ready they will understand, but I don’t want to be what keeps you from your family. If you are ready to come back but you do not want to see me, tell Booker or Nile, please. I will not stand between you and what you need.” 

“I wish only for your happiness,” Nicky says. “Goodbye.”

The call ends. Joe sits at the table for a long time, before getting up and walking outside without a word.

Nile goes to the window, watches him stare up at the stars. Eventually, she grabs a blanket and walks out to him, draping it over his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Nile,” Joe murmurs. 

She waits, but he doesn’t say anything else, so Nile heads back in and gets ready for bed. 

***

When the results of her applications come in, Nile is devastated by the rejections, and not really sure why. Joe tries to ask her about it, but Nile just shakes her head. She knows she’s being ridiculous, that she never really expected to get into all of them, but she’s really, really upset anyway. She mopes around the house for the next couple of days, trying to get excited about the ones she did get into, but not having much success. 

“Nile,” Joe calls, as he enters. He’d been gone when Nile woke up, with the car - weird, but Nile hadn’t given much thought to it. “There’s a surprise!”

The door to Nile’s room bangs open, and Quỳnh launches herself through it, grasping Nile around her shoulders. “Surprise!” She shrieks.

“Quỳnh,” Andy says, rolling her eyes but smiling as she comes into the room, giving Nile a much calmer hug. “You could have warned her.”

“Joe warned her,” Quỳnh says dismissively. “I waited as long as I could. It has been too long since I saw my sister! Nile! You look unhappy. What is the matter? Tell us.”

“Nice to see you too, Quỳnh,” Nile says, but she’s already laughing. Quỳnh is contagious that way. 

“Miss us?” Booker asks, leaning through the doorway. “Or are you now remembering how lucky you were to escape the madhouse?”

Nile rolls her eyes and waits - but there’s no Nicky walking up behind Booker, cutting through the chaos with his gentle calm, his practical suggestions. Booker sees her eyeing the empty space behind his shoulder, and shakes his head. 

“Of course I missed you,” Nile says. “ _ And  _ I’m remembering how lucky I am to have escaped the madhouse.”

It helps a lot to have them there. They help her talk through what’s bothering her, even though they never get further than:  _ I didn’t think it would bother me to but it does and I don’t understand why and that’s just making me frustrated and more bothered in a vicious cycle _ . And it’s just nice to be with them, to goof off with them during the day and laugh about it over dinner. 

It’s a little strange to have Joe there instead of Nicky - but maybe only strange to Nile. Andy and Quỳnh act like there was no time lost between them, pulling him into old stories effortlessly. Booker and Joe have been talking often enough that they have inside jokes, apparently. Nile finally gets to witness both sides of their book rants - it turns out they were never arguments, and that they were only getting worked up about the same things  _ very  _ loudly.

They stay three weeks. They’ve got another job lined up, in the states. Andy pulls her aside the day before they’re getting to leave and says, very seriously: “If you want to see us for any reason, just tell us. We’ll drop everything, always, for you.”

Andy’s affection might be curt and rough around the edges, but it’s overwhelming when she does let it out. “I will,” Nile says. 

“You and Joe going to be alright?” Andy asks. 

“Yeah,” Nile says. “We’re going to go to the Grand Canyon, and maybe a few other places while I get ready to go to school. It should be fun.”

They’re halfway through their last dinner - Quỳnh deigned to cook for them, so Nile is feasting on the best spring rolls she has ever eaten in her life, when headlights shine through the window, and Nile hears the crunch of gravel under tires. The car shuts off, and a door opens and closes, but nothing else happens. The easy atmosphere vanishes in an instant, and Nile knows that everyone else is doing the same thing as she is - trying really hard not to look at Joe, who is still stubbornly digging into his rice. He doesn’t seem surprised, so he must have known this was coming. 

Booker stands, clapping a hand on Joe’s shoulder before grabbing a fresh plate and portioning some com tam onto it, along with a few spring rolls and dipping sauce. He heads to the fridge and grabs a couple of beers before disappearing out the door. He comes back in a few minutes later, twisting off the cap of his own beer and gulping half of it down in one go. “So,” he says. “Who's going to tell Joe and Nile about the time Quỳnh jumped off the Northern Rim of the Grand Canyon?”

Nile inhales and nearly chokes on her rice. “She what?” 

“Andy jumped too,” Quỳnh sniffs. “I do not know why it is always me doing these things in your stories.”

“Andy tried to stop you,” Booker corrects. “And you grabbed her and took her with you.”

Quỳnh scoffs. “As though Andromache could not have actually stopped me if she did not want to go over the edge. She just likes being able to pretend she is the level headed one. Really, it was her idea.”

“Andy?” Nile asks. 

“I distinctly remember being pushed,” Andy says, dry as always, but Nile thinks she sees her wink at Quỳnh. 

Dinner doesn’t exactly get back to normal, but things are fine. Andy, Quỳnh, and Booker are planning on an early start, so they don’t linger over dinner. They help her and Joe play tetris with the dishwasher, and they’re about to start it when Nile says, “No wait, there’s still one more plate,” and pops the easy mood again. “I’ll get it,” she says, to escape. 

Nicky is sitting on the hood of his car, reading a book in the dimming light, a half-finished beer dangling from his fingers. He looks up when Nile opens the door. “Oh,” he says. “Hello, Nile.”

“Nicky,” she says. “Done with your plate?” 

“Yes,” he says, holding it out. She tries to take it, but he keeps a hold on it. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you,” he says. 

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Nicky says. “It’s not.”

“You’ve been dealing with a lot,” Nile says.

“That is no excuse. I have been a poor friend to you.”

“Nicky,” she sighs, tugging on the plate, and this time he lets her take it from him, but he catches her wrist before she can walk away. 

“I was glad you were with him,” Nicky tells her, looking earnestly into her eyes. “From that very first night I was glad about that. I knew from the moment we met that the two of you would get along famously. It was just very difficult for me to think of how to talk to you, knowing you were with Joe but not understanding why he did not want me there. But I should not have let that keep me from being there for you. I’m sorry, Nile.” 

He lets her go then, apology over. Nile could go back inside, but she sits next to him instead. “I didn’t know how to talk to you either,” she admits. “How are you handling everything?”

Nicky turns to face her, gives her a small smile. “I’m good.”

Nile raises her eyebrows at him, sure that it’s not enough to show how skeptical she feels.

Nicky shrugs. “Joe is no longer suffering. He is out, living and breathing and laughing. What is there for me to be upset about?”

“Um,” Nile says. 

Nicky lets out his little huff of a laugh. That’s all Nile has ever heard from him, so different from Joe, who laughs loudly whenever he can, doubling over, slapping his knee like he’s trying to make up for lost time. “The others do not understand either,” Nicky says. “They keep waiting for me to fall to my knees and tear out my hair.”

“You’re just - cool with this?”

Nicky’s smile turns down. He looks up at the house. “You know we met during the First Crusade,” he says quietly. “I killed him first. I was happy to do it and when he was dead I spat on his corpse.” 

Nicky looks as sickened by that as Nile feels, which is not much of a relief. “I told Joe, eventually. He laughed and said it did not matter because he had done the same to me later. But it was not the same. I did it to him because I was a hateful person, and he did it because I earned his hatred. Andromache and Quỳnh never knew me like that, so they do not know how much of a miracle it was that Joe ever loved me to begin with.”

“I never fully understood how he could do it, but he loved me with everything he had. I don’t doubt that. One day of being loved like that by him would have made me the luckiest person to ever live on this earth, and he gave me his love for nearly three hundred years. I may have lost it, but I will not be upset by that.”

_ Shit,  _ Nile thinks. He’s come a long way from where he was on that call. She is saved from having to think of something to say by the front door opening. It’s Joe. 

She gets up and avoids both their eyes as she heads back inside. The rest of them are clustered around the front window, looking out. “Seriously?” she hisses. 

Andy shrugs. “It’s not like we’re hiding. If they don’t want us to see they can fuck off into the woods.”

Nile joins them, because they’re not wrong, and her boundaries erode more everyday, and she doesn’t really want to be left out of the gossip.

They’re standing a few feet away from each other, just talking. They’re mirroring each other, hands in pockets. Joe says something, Nicky nods. Nicky says something, Joe nods. They go back and forth like that for a while, before Nicky pulls something small out of his pocket and hands it over. Joe takes it, fiddles with whatever it is and goes very still. 

Booker lets out a low whistle, and Nile realizes what it must be. The ring box, the one Nicky carries everywhere. She can still remember Booker rooting around in Nicky’s things when they were under fire in the church the first night she met all of them. She’d been so angry when she saw what he was delaying them for, but when he’d handed it to Nicky when the whole mess was over Nicky had sunk to his knees and pressed kisses to Booker’s palms, right in the middle of a busy London street. It had been the first time that it had sunk in, how ancient they truly were. 

Joe puts it in his pocket, and says something else. Nicky shrugs, and after another few words from Joe reaches into the backseat and pulls out his bag. 

Andy, Quỳnh, and Booker melt away back to their room as the two of them head up toward the house. Nile heads into the kitchen to start the dishwasher, and is close enough to hear Nicky say “...respect your boundaries.” 

“I appreciate that, but I wouldn't have said you could come if I was going to make you sleep in a car,” Joe says, as he opens the door. 

“Well, my back thanks you.” 

“You can sleep with the others,” Joe says. “I’ll show you.”

“Thank you,” Nicky says, and follows Joe further back into the house. Nile shakes her head, and presses the button that will make the dishwasher work its magic.


	2. Chapter 2

Joe and Nile are both speechless when confronted with the reality of the Grand Canyon. Nile at least grew up with photos, hearing the occasional story from people who’d been. They’re not here during a busy season but the viewpoints are still pretty crowded, and Joe barely notices the crush of people. Nile’s not sure if she would call that progress, considering that he’s just dumbfounded, but it’s something.

They end up staying longer than they were planning. Joe’s always been looser outside under an open sky, and a campground suits him. Nile can’t say that she likes it as much, but it’s still a nice change of pace, and once she convinces Joe she really is happier relaxing next to their tent with a drink in one hand and a book in the other than with him on a ten mile hike it’s a pretty good time.

When they get back Andy calls about a job. “We could use you, Nile,” she says. 

“Okay,” Nile says. She knows Andy wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true, and they’d promised her they wouldn’t take jobs that they couldn’t handle without her unless absolutely necessary. “Where is it?”

“Los Angeles.”

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” Nile promises.

Joe does not like it, when she tells him why she’s packing a bag. He stands in the doorway with his hands on his hips and frowns. He looks like a stock photo of a disappointed parent, and when he says, “No, absolutely not,” Nile rolls her eyes. 

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” Nile reminds him. 

Joe frowns deeper. “I thought you wanted to go to university,” he says. “I thought you didn’t want to fight.”

“I don’t, not really,” Nile says. “But if someone has to fight it should be us.”

Joe huffs and turns away, walking out of the room. It’s the first time they’ve had any kind of major disagreement, and Nile can’t say she likes it. But she puts her head down and keeps packing. For better or worse, she was a fighter first, and she’s not going to bury that part of herself.

Joe is waiting by the car when she steps outside, a bag at his feet. 

“Joe…” Nile begins. 

“I trust your decisions,” he says. “I’ve decided.”

“Alright,” Nile says. 

Quỳnh is the one to open the door when they arrive at the house. She hugs Nile, and gasps in delight when she sees Joe behind her. “Joe,” she says, reaching out and tugging him inside. “We didn’t know you were coming!”

Andy and Booker are seated at the table, with what remains of dinner. Booker looks surprised, but salutes Joe with his beer.

Andy stands up to wrap him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

Joe shrugs. “There’s a job.”

In the kitchen, something clatters around in the sink. 

“No offense, but I don’t trust you enough to take you on a job,” Andy says.

Joe laughs. “No offense! I see your manners have not improved.” 

“I’m serious,” she says. “Do you even know how a gun works now?”

“Not really,” Joe says. “But I’m not a child. There are things I can do that will make it safer for you. Watch the entrances, exits, warn you if I see trouble coming.”

Andy thinks it over, and nods. Quỳnh starts gushing with excitement, grabbing one of Joe’s hands and leading him out to the back porch, saying something about a gift she was going to have Nile deliver to him.

“Nile,” Nicky says warmly, coming out of the kitchen. His sleeves are rolled up, and when he folds her up in his arms he smells faintly of tomato sauce and dirty dishwater. “Are you hungry?” he asks, drawing back. “I put the food away in the fridge, I wasn’t sure when you would be arriving. I could reheat it for you.”

“I’m okay,” Nile says. 

He squeezes her hand. “I have to change the sheets and finish cleaning up, but we’ll talk later, alright?”

“Sure,” she says. 

Nile’s been to this safehouse once before, and Nicky had picked up a bed for her. There’s four. One’s clearly been made up already for Nile. The rest have been slept in - Nicky puts his things into a bag by the foot of the bed and brings it over to the sofa before heading back to strip the sheets. 

“Boss,” Booker says quietly. 

“He knows what he’s doing,” Andy says.

It’s human trafficking again, because of course it is. They don’t have good specs of the building, and can’t tell where they’re being held and if there are multiple groups that they’ll need to get out safely it’s going to be tough. Hostages always make things more difficult. 

The plan is to have Andy and Quỳnh enter first and wreak havoc, scout out where people are being held but move on and draw the action away long enough for Booker, Nicky, and Nile to get people out safely and bring them to the truck that Joe will be waiting in. 

Things go to shit almost immediately. Andy and Quỳnh make it into the building fine, but within a couple floors it becomes clear that there are way too many armed men for this plan to work. Booker, Nile, and Nicky are already out of the truck when Andy and Quỳnh warn them, and before they can get back to it two teams of people armed to the teeth come pouring out of both stairwells into the garage. They’re nearly caught in a crossfire, but Nile takes a chance on running for the elevator and by some miracle it’s already in the basement. Nicky gets hit in the leg, but Joe leans out of the truck and fires into one of the teams long enough for Booker to drag Nicky toward the elevator. He’s a better shot than he has any right to be, after only a couple of hours with Booker’s version of a crash course in gun safety.

“Joe, get in here now!” Booker yells. “Nile!”

Nile fires at the other group, scattering them long enough for Joe to sprint into the elevator. “Fuck,” Booker spits, jamming the close door button. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You okay?” Nile asks Joe. The gun in his hands was just supposed to be a precaution, he was never even meant to leave the truck. He looks grim but he nods, and when he pulls out the clip to check how many bullets he has left his hands are steady.

Andy and Quỳnh aren’t saying anything over the comms, so they’re probably deep in their own shit. “Did anyone catch what floor they’re on?” Booker asks.

“Just pick one,” Nile says. “Four.”

The elevator starts moving, but of course they’re monitoring that and the lights go out as it shudders to a halt. 

“Shit,” Booker says. “Nile -”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping into his cupped hands and getting on his shoulders, so she can bang on the exit panel in the ceiling.

Booker tries to check in with Andy and Quỳnh as Nile tries to get any kind of purchase on the elevator, and judging from his low curses, they’re both having equal success.

“Joe,” Nicky says, low and urgent.

A moment later Nile hears it, the way that Joe’s breathing has started to go wild. “Shit,” she breathes, right before Joe barrels into Booker, knocking them both to the ground. 

She and Booker end up tangled together on the floor, and before they can get up Joe is throwing himself against the wall, frustrated shouts growing louder when it refuses to give. They get kicked a few times, and when Nile finally gets her feet under it’s only for half a second before Joe slams into her, sending her right back down again. 

“Joe,” Nicky says, and Nile hears the soft scratch of velcro coming undone. “Joe, I’m going to take your hand and put it on my shoulder.”

There’s a slap of skin on skin, the tell-tale sounds of Nicky grabbing Joe and tugging him forward. “That’s it,” Nicky says. “That’s my shoulder. Warm and dry, yes?”

Joe groans, the short, frustrated one that Nile has come to recognize as the sign that he’s grasping at the edges of his control.

“I’m going to move us into the corner to your left so that Nile and Booker have more room to work,” Nicky says. “My back will be to the wall. Follow me, Joe.”

“Shit,” Joe says, sounding wrecked, but at least he’s talking. “Shit, shit, I -”

“Don’t apologize,” Nicky says. “Nile, Booker, you should be able to get back to work.”

“I’m turning on the flashlight on my phone,” Nile says.

“Good idea,” Nicky says, as she slides it closer to their feet. “Have we heard from Andy and Quỳnh?”

“Yeah, they’re on the third floor now, tearing their way up the building,” Booker replies.

Nile gets back on his shoulders. She starts banging on the ceiling again, but Nicky cuts in over her. “Stop for a moment Nile, please.”

She does. 

“Joe?” Nicky says. “She needs to do that to get us out of here. Can you stay still?”

“I don’t know,” Joe moans.

“Guys,” Booker says gently. “We really need to move.”

“Fuck,” Joe says. 

“I’m going to hold you here, and here,” Nicky says. “You keep your left hand on my shoulder. Your right hand is free. Here is my stomach - when you need to move, try to keep it there. A soft place for you to land, and I’ll expect it.”

“Okay,” Joe says. “Okay. Can I? This?”

"Yes, of course," Nicky says. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead, Nile” Nicky says. 

Nile can’t hear much from her position on Booker’s shoulders, she does hear Joe swear a few more times, and an occasional grunt from Nicky. She finally gets the hatch in the ceiling open, and hauls herself up to take stock of their situation. They’re between floors. Booker leaps up to join her, and together they pry open the doors. When they finally inch them open, it’s to a miraculously trafficker-free hallway. “We’re clear,” she calls. 

When she looks down the light spilling out of the hallway illuminates Nicky folded into the corner of the elevator, Joe leaning into him, foreheads pressed together. One of Nicky’s hands is wrapped around Joe’s wrist, above where Joe is gripping his shoulder. His other hand is fisted around the shoulder strap of Joe’s bulletproof vest. He lets go and moves it up to Joe’s shoulder as Nile looks away. 

When she looks back down Joe is clambering out of the elevator. He heads straight into the hallway, tense until he gets under the lights and is able to brace himself against the wall.

Nicky straps his armor back on and Booker reaches down to help him out. 

“Nile, you and Joe head back down to the garage to secure our exit,” Nicky directs. “Booker and I will meet up with Andy and Quỳnh.”

Nile nods.

“Are you good with just the gun, Joe?” Nicky asks. “Do you want an edged weapon?”

Joe pushes himself away from the wall. “What do you have?”

“My sword, some smaller knives. Booker has a Schweizerdolch. It’s like a basler.”

“You do?” Nile blurts. “Since when?” She’s never known Booker to carry anything bigger than a switchblade, and that only because it’s useful for jiggling things open. He’s a rough and tumble kind of guy, and Andy pretends to give him a hard time about it but it’s never been a real point of contention.

Booker sighs. “Not now.”

“I’ll take the sword,” Joe says. 

Nicky hands it over. Joe straps it to his own waist, loosens it in his sheath, and sighs. “It’s too long.”

Nicky smiles. “And heavy, yes I know. You can still take the Schweizerdolch.” 

“It’s fine,” Joe says. 

It’s more than fine. When Joe pulls it out he carves through the traffickers like Nicky carves through traffickers. He knows exactly how to use it.

Later, when they’re back at their safehouse, Nile sits next to Booker and eyes the short, thick knife still strapped to his thigh meaningfully. It's actually very him, but it doesn’t look like he even thought about using it. He groans, looking around before leaning in toward her and lowering his voice. “Yeah, I let Nicky show me a couple things. It helped take his mind off...” He waves his hand.

Nile smiles. “That’s sweet of you.”

Booker rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but cuts himself off when Nicky comes in, fresh from the shower. 

“Do you think you and Joe will stay for dinner?” he asks Nile. 

“I’d like to,” Nile says.

Nicky smiles. “I’ll get started, then.” He disappears into the kitchen.

“I don’t get it,” Booker says quietly. “He was a mess, made me look good. And then one day he was fine. We thought he’d cracked. I’m still not sure that he hasn’t.”

“At least he’s better,” Nile says. 

Booker nods. “You want the shower first?”

“Yeah,” Nile says. 

By the time she gets out of the shower Joe is done with his. Nile had tried to rush through it so she could make him tea, but there’s a steaming mug in front of him, where he’s seated at the table. Nicky is in the kitchen, sauteing vegetables in a pan. “Tacos?” Nile asks, as spices tickle her nose when she gets herself a glass of water.

“Yes,” Nicky says. 

“Smells good,” Joe says. 

“Should be,” Nicky says.

Nile looks between them, and walks out of the kitchen to find something to do in the living room. After a few moments, Joe takes his mug and goes into the kitchen, leaning up against the fridge. The safehouse is small, too small for Nile not to hear them. The best thing she can do is give them the illusion of privacy, though she makes sure to clear her throat loudly so they know that it really is just an illusion. 

“Thank you,” Joe says quietly. “For today.”

Nicky shakes his head and flicks his hand dismissively. “There is no need. I’m only sorry it had to happen. That I had to be the one to do it.”

"Me too," Joe says. Nicky stiffens. "No, I didn't mean - I just meant that I know it must have been difficult for you, too."

Nicky sighs. "Yes, it was." He taps his spoon on the side of the pan a few times, and takes a deep breath. “If we work together again we should talk first - I could have just shot you in the head, but I didn't know... we could not plan for every eventuality, of course, but -”

“I agree,” Joe says. "And for what it's worth, you made the right choice, I think." He watches him for a little while longer. “Can I have your number?”

Nile had been lulled into a false sense of security by the ongoing impersonality of the conversation, and thought it was safe to take a sip of water. She spits it out, dribbling down the front of her shirt. Nicky and Joe both turn to look at her, puzzled frowns on their faces. “Uh,” she says. “Sorry, wrong pipe. I’m just gonna - just gonna step outside for a minute and get some fresh air.”

The heat outside undoes most of the good her shower did her, but she should have sucked it up and stepped out right from the start. She curses ancient immortals for their complete lack of shame and stares up at the night sky. 

Once Andy and Quỳnh come back from the relocating the people they were able to rescue they all sit around the table and ask Nile and Joe what they plan to do for the rest of the summer. 

“We were thinking of hitting up some more National Parks,” Nile says. “I’m getting better at lighting a fire from scratch, but -”

“But she is still not quick enough!” Joe finishes for her. “I want to call myself a good teacher, and I cannot do that yet. Do you know how many strikes it takes her to create sparks! Shameful.”

Nile rolls her eyes and shoves at him. 

“Is Glacier on your list?” Nicky asks. 

Andy, Quỳnh, and Booker’s eyes all bug out, darting between the two of them. Last night Nicky had been very careful never to address Joe directly, to stay seated when Joe stood, to keep out of his way. They didn’t see the conversation in the kitchen. Nile has the worst luck.

“We were considering it, yeah,” Joe says. 

Nicky smiles. “If you do, bring your paints. The colors there are…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Breathtaking.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Joe says, smiling back. 

Booker clears his throat. “Would’ve said Zion is more spectacular, personally.”

“Oh!” Quỳnh says, clapping her hands. “Zion, is that where -”

Booker groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Yes, you jumped there too.”

“And Andromache came with me,” Quỳnh says, grinning at her. 

“You guys know skydiving exists, right?” Nile asks. “You don’t have to literally kill yourselves for the thrill of it?”

“I could go skydiving with anyone,” Andy says, drawing Quỳnh’s hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I could only fall to my death with Quỳnh.”

“You guys are nuts,” Nile says, but she’s smiling. 

Beside her, Joe hums and stands up and walks out of the front door. 

“He’s okay,” Nile tells the suddenly silent room. He does that sometimes, usually in public places where he can get overwhelmed by some sound or smell too quickly for him to excuse himself first. 

A moment later, Nile’s phone buzzes.  **May I speak with you outside for a moment?**

She excuses herself and steps out. Joe hasn’t left the front porch, but his arms are crossed and he’s shifting his weight restlessly. Nile isn’t surprised when he says, “I think I need some time on my own. Would you mind staying here for a few days?”

“I’d like spending some time with them,” Nile tells him honestly. “Are you sure you want to be alone? Booker would probably go with you, if you wanted.”

“I’m sure. It has not been an uneventful trip. I need some time to... “ Joe waves his hand. “Realign myself, with all that has happened”

“Okay,” Nile says. “Do you want me to grab your bag?”

“Yes, please,” Joe says. 

Nile goes back inside, relays that he’s fine and just needs some space to process as she grabs his bag. Nicky steps out of the kitchen, a paper bag in his hand. “Food,” he says. “Leftovers.”

Nicky always puts little notes on the leftovers, with the date the meal was cooked and reheating instructions. Nile stares at his handwriting on the tupperware inside the bag, biting her lip, but Nicky wanders back into the kitchen before she can think of a way to tell him this won’t go over well. She sends a helpless look to the others, but Booker and Andy both look just as uncomfortable as she feels and Quỳnh just grimaces in exaggerated confusion.

Nile slips out. 

“What’s that?” Joe asks, looking at the paper bag. 

“Nicky thought you might want to take some leftovers with you,” Nile tells him.

Joe does consider it, but in the end he shakes his head. “I’ll just pick something up,” he says. “I’m not going to go far, and I think I only need a few days. I’ll call you when I’m heading back. Okay?”

“Yeah, go,” Nile says. “No worries.”

When Nile steps back inside with the bag still in her hand, Quỳnh sucks in a breath through her teeth and Booker runs a hand down his face.

Nicky is drying dishes in the kitchen; he turns around when Nile steps up to him and holds out the bag, and his face blanks out completely. He pulls one of the containers out. “Oh,” he says, very distantly. “He did not want them.” He cradles it in his hands, stroking his thumb across the label for long enough that Andy comes into the kitchen, jerking her head Nile, directing her to escape to the table. Quỳnh kicks out a chair for her. Booker looks like he would be saying  _ I told you so  _ if he weren’t so miserable to be right. 

“I should have known that, yes?” Nicky murmurs to himself. “No, how could I - but I should have known, I should have known better than to -” he sucks in a shaky breath, and when he begins speaking again it’s clear that he’s holding back tears, even without visual confirmation. “But what if he was hungry? I can’t send him away hungry. What if he’s hungry, what if - oh, I shouldn’t have  _ cooked  _ -”

“Nicky,” Andy cuts in, gently.

Nicky lets his breath out, slowly, shakily. “Oh,” he says, sounding devastated and disappointed all at once. “I thought I was ready. I thought - I thought I was ready.”

***

Nile has always been a light sleeper, and even now that she doesn’t have to dream about Joe anymore and his nightmares are less likely to wake her, she hasn’t been able to shake the habit of getting up in the middle of the night. She heads to the kitchen for a glass of water, and sees that Nicky never came inside after he disappeared out into the night air. He’s just on the back stoop, gazing out at the dusty wasteland of the Central Valley. There’s a blanket around his shoulders that Quỳnh probably put there. 

“Mind if I join you?” Nile asks, as she steps outside. 

“No,” Nicky says. “But I don’t know if I will be very lively company.”

“That’s okay,” Nile says.

He stretches out his arm when she sits next to him, wrapping the end of the blanket around her shoulders and tugging her a little closer when she slots in next to him. 

“I’ve missed you,” she says as she tips her head onto his shoulder, because it’s true. It’s not like she’s touched starved, with Joe - he’ll hug her tight and fierce when he thinks the occasion calls for it, squeeze her shoulder or her hand in solidarity and thanks. But he still can’t sleep with blankets on him, and Nile can’t think of a circumstance where he'd be happy to let her lean on him for hours. The others would if she asked, but it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn’t be Nicky’s low voice in her ear. Maybe she relied on him too heavily, but Nile can’t bring herself to really care about that.

“I’ve missed you too,” Nicky tells her. 

They sit like that for a while, just looking at the stars and breathing in time. Nicky draws circles on her shoulder with his thumb, and the rhythm of it makes Nile drowsy. “Maybe we can work out some kind of visitation,” she mumbles sleepily. “Trade off weekends and holidays.”

Nicky’s thumb stops moving. 

“Jesus, Nicky,” Nile whispers into the silence a few minutes later, suddenly wide awake. “That was so insensitive, I’m sorry.” 

“No,” Nicky murmurs, jostling her a little with his shoulder. “It’s a sensible suggestion. This isn’t sustainable for any kind of long term.”

“Still a shitty thing for me to say.”

“Never mind that,” Nicky says. “Now, I read over the course catalog you sent me, and there are many classes I thought looked interesting, but tell me what you think.”

So Nile talks, and Nicky pulls the catalog up on his phone so they can squint at it together, and eventually Nile drifts off against him. She wakes up in her bed, the blankets pulled up over her shoulders. 

There’s not much to do in the Central Valley, so she and Nicky spend most of the day driving around looking for something to do. They settle on dismantling whatever anti-homeless architecture they can find, and Joe calls a few days later while she and Nicky are loading the awful bars they’ve removed from a stone bench in Barstow into their truck. 

“Hello Nile,” Joe says cheerfully into her ear. “I’m heading back now.” 

“Okay,” Nile says.

“I’ll see you in about three hours.”

“See you,” Nile says. 

Nicky drives them back silently. He packs a bag, folds Nile up in his arms, and kisses her forehead. And then he gets into the little sedan parked out front and drives away. 

Joe pulls up a couple of hours later, looking tired but happy. He hugs Andy and Quỳnh, trades shoulder slaps with Booker. He slings an arm over Nile’s shoulder. “I’ve grown so used to your company that even three days apart was enough for me to miss you,” he jokes. 

“Speak for yourself,” Nile tells him. “I didn’t miss your snoring.”

Joe slaps his hand over his heart and groans. “What have I done, sweet Nile, to deserve such a cruel welcome?” 

Quỳnh tuts at him, and reaches out her hand. When Joe takes it, she tugs him into the backyard to show them all the truly terrifying abstract sculpture she and Andy have created from the scraps Nile and Nicky brought back. “We call it Trickle Down Economics,” Quỳnh says, spreading her hands in a ta-da gesture, looking far too pleased with what amounts to a giant ball of spikes. “What do you think?”

Booker snorts. Joe looks bewildered, but nods approvingly. “I can certainly see your and Andy’s creative voice shining through,” he says, running a finger along one of the spikes. He taps his finger against the point. “It was too much for him, too?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Booker says. “He says it doesn’t change anything you talked about.”

Two days later, when it’s Nile’s turn to drive a leg back to their house in Arizona, Joe says, “We were held captive for a long time. One night he asked me not to fight them anymore, because it made them angry and cruel. The next day I let them l put a bag over my head and when they led me to a metal box I stepped inside.”

When Nile glances over at him he’s curled into the window, a hand across his face, covering his eyes. “You don’t have to -” she begins. 

“I want you to understand that it would not have changed anything,” Joe says quietly. “It would have ended up that way even if I had struggled. It is just that I don’t know if there will ever be a time when I will look at him and - and not remember how he took the last piece I could control away from me. For a long time, hating him for it was all I could do.”

Nile has no idea what to say. She chews on the inside of her cheek for the next five miles. 

Eventually, Joe sighs. “My point is, I am sorry for taking you away from him, when that is all he has done. I pulled you between us and it isn’t fair.”

“You know what, you’re right,” she agrees. “It’s not fair. But we wouldn’t be a family if there wasn’t some kind of really,  _ really _ , uncomfortable dynamic happening somewhere.”

Joe drops his hand at that, staring across at her, and then he laughs. “I suppose you’re right.” He grins out the window for a few moments, before he turns grave again. “I haven’t been able to discuss this with him yet,” he says. “Do you think he understands?”

Nile thinks back to Booker’s desperate explanation of what happened with Merrick, how he and Copley had a plan that they were cut out of, that by the time he realized what was happening it was too late for him to do anything. Andy and Quỳnh had been stone faced and furious, had told him he should have known better. Nicky had been quiet through it all, but once they sent Booker outside he had argued viciously for forgiveness.  _ He did not have time to correct his mistake,  _ he’d said, over and over, until they’d agreed not let him vet things anymore took his voting privileges away for a century.

“Yeah,” Nile says. “I think he does.”

***

She and Joe have barely had to text before while they were living together, and she honestly doesn’t know how fluent he is in texting with the others, what he’d be like. Nile knows he’s texted the most with Booker so when the first text from Joe comes in after she starts school she expects it to be like Booker’s - short and to the point. Instead he sends her a paragraph. 

**Hello Nile, I hope you are doing well, that you’ve met lovely people and that you find your classes invigorating. I have missed you this last week, but your absence is in pursuit of an admirable goal so I am tolerating it as best I can. I am very proud of you, and I am sure that you will be a credit to your family and to your friends. Fortunately Booker has kept me quite busy, and I do not have much time to dwell on our separation. France is quite charming now - it is endlessly frustrating. I believe I have Booker convinced that I find the Seine and the streets of Paris despicable - do not give me away, or he shall be unbearably smug.**

Nile stares at the message for at least five minutes, before bursting into laughter so hard that she cries. She asks Booker:  **Does he always text like that?**

Booker texts back:  **Yes**

Nile laughs again. She switches to Joe.  **Classes seem good. Won’t tell, promise ;)**

Booker sends her  **If he’s saying he doesn't like Paris he’s full of shit**

God, now Nile wishes she could read every single text they’ve sent each other. 

Her phone buzzes with two new texts. The one from Joe reads  **Thank you, Nile! I am delighted to hear that you are enjoying your studies.**

She’s expecting the other one to be from Booker, but it’s from Nicky.  **How are you adjusting to university life? Did you enjoy your first week? It is very strange for us without you and Booker. We miss you, and look forward to seeing you next month when we visit.**

It’s eerily similar to Joe’s message, if a bit less stilted. Did they think of her at the same time? Did they both think, oh yes, the first Thursday after she starts will be the best time to check in?

Texting with two people at once is never a skill that Nile mastered, but it helps that Joe spends a long time composing his odes to the unfortunately enchanting sights of France, and Nicky is good at asking prompting questions that are easily answered. She tells Nicky about her classes and sends encouraging texts to Joe to keep him talking. 

Andy, Quỳnh, and Nicky come for their visit a few weeks later, and they let her take them around the museums in LA, let her play host even though they’ve been here before. But they've never been to Disneyland, and Nile dragging them there might be the best idea she has ever had in her entire life. Nile is not supposed to use her camera for anything, but it’s too good an opportunity to pass up and she only hesitates for a second before whipping out her phone to document as much as she can. At one point she captures Andy’s look of utter disgust in the background as Quỳnh bounds forward to embrace Winnie the Pooh, and it’s so good that she sends it to Booker, digital data trail be damned.

Two days later, Booker sends her a text that says  **You’ve created a monster** , and a picture of Joe, standing in front of the castle in Paris, a Mickey mouse hat jammed on his head and grinning ear to ear. 

Nile shows it to everyone, even though it might get her and Booker in trouble for Violating Anonymity Safety Measures. Quỳnh gasps and grabs at Nile’s phone, bringing it up closer to her face, “Joe went to Disneyland, with all those crowds? Amazing!”

“We shouldn’t be taking photos,” Andy grumbles, but she looks at it with shining eyes and can’t quite hide her smile. 

Nicky takes the phone from her and rubs his thumb over Joe's smile, stares at the picture until the screen goes dark. “Amazing,” he agrees, before handing it back to her.

Playing host is hard, but Nile is still sad to see them go. So when Nicky texts her three weeks later and says:  **Andy and Quỳnh are going to join Joe and Booker in Europe for a while, would it be alright if I stayed with you?** she immediately says yes. 

Nicky arrives a few hours later, and the short notice means Nile did not have time to make the house more presentable or buy a vegetable, so she takes him out to one of the local restaurants she likes and listens to him gently disparage her living habits. 

“Meal prep is not hard,” Nicky says. “All it takes is organization and planning, and you are very capable.”

His phone buzzes, and Nile uses the time he takes to text back to hide her eye roll. 

“I know that you are adjusting to being on your own, and that you are very busy, but you should still try to take care of yourself.” His phone buzzes again, and he reads it and smiles. “Joe says hi.”

“He does?” Nile asks, before she realizes that’s not the important question. “Hold on, you guys are talking now?”

Nicky nods. “Yes, on a limited basis.”

“A limited basis?”

“Mmm,” Nicky says, firing something else off. “He texts me, I text back, one to one ratio, no calling but in cases of emergency.”

“Huh,” Nile says. “So, are you guys friends again?”

Nicky shoots her an unimpressed look. “You know things are not so simple. Do not think you can distract me from the emptiness of your fridge, or the dust on your shelves.”

Nile groans and drops her head into her hands.

Nicky spends about a month with her, trying to coax her into developing some culinary talent. He undercuts himself by preparing her food every day and packing her a lunch like the parent of a kindergartener, but after he flies out to join them on the  _ Reintroduce Joe to All of Europe Tour _ Nile can admit that she misses him. 

They all fly back to LA for the holidays, and they spend the beginning of Nile’s break together as a family. Quỳnh and Joe insist on going back to Disneyland. Booker and Andy do eventually agree to come along, but they pull their hats down low over their faces like they’re ashamed to be seen, and disappear before lunch to go day drink in a dive bar outside of the park. 

Andy shakes her awake at around three hours after the ball dropped on New Year’s Eve. 

“We’ve got a job,” she says. “Us and Booker are going to head out. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Ugh,” Nile says, head spinning as she blinks up at Andy’s blurred outline. “Yeah, get out of here.”

Andy laughs as Nile turns over. 

Nile forgets all about the conversation until she drags her ass out of bed around noon, and drops what she was carrying when she sees Nicky and Joe sitting at the table, eating breakfast together.

Thankfully, the cup she was carrying was plastic, and she doesn’t have to worry about being hungover, confused,  _ and _ standing in a pile of shattered glass. 

“Are you alright?” Nicky asks. 

Joe tuts. “Does she look alright to you, Nicky?”

For a moment Nile wonders if she’s having a fever dream, before she remembers that she can’t get fevers, but she can, for some fucking reason, get a splitting hangover if she drinks enough tequila. She collapses into one of the chairs. 

“Uh…” she begins. “Nicky, I thought you were going on a job? Did I hallucinate that?”

He and Joe look at each other. “They thought they’d be able to handle it with three,” Joe says. “So we thought it might be a good opportunity for the two of us to spend some time alone together.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Nicky says. “And some toast?”

“I’ll try,” Nile says, holding her head. 

“A new year,” Joe says. “And you are an eighth of the way through your degree, yes? How do you feel about that? Aside from your terrible headache, of course.”

“Actually, I was thinking of trying to graduate early,” Nile says,

“What?” Nicky asks, setting two pieces of buttered toast down in front of her. “Why?”

“I guess I just,” Nile begins, pushing the bread around. “It hasn’t been like I thought it would be. I wanted to do this now because it’s the last chance I have to do it with people my own age. But most of them are younger than me, and even if they weren’t it’s not like I can make lifelong friends with them.”

Joe makes a concerned noise, and Nile realizes it’s because she’s crying a little. “Shit,” she says, wiping her face. “Sorry, I - what a way to ring in the new year, huh?”

Nicky sits in the chair next to her and rubs her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nile,” he says. “We didn’t know you were feeling that way. Why did you feel you couldn’t tell us?”

“It’s not like I’m miserable,” Nile says. “I have friends, I like my classes, even though it’s frivolous anyway.”

“Art isn’t frivolous,” Joe says. 

Great, now she’s hurt his feelings. Guilt wells up inside her and she really starts to cry. “That’s not what I meant,” Nile says. “But I’m just reading about things other people have done. I should be taking like, International Relations or something. Or learning how to hack computers, or -”

“Stop,” Nicky says gently. “There is nothing wrong with engaging in your passions. We are more than a collection of useful skills. Would you begrudge Booker his football matches? Quỳnh her fashion week?”

“No,” Nile sniffs. “Of course not.”

Joe tsks and reaches out, taking her hands. “Nile, you are hungover. We will support you in whatever decision you make, but please don’t work yourself into a state because I stumbled upon a sensitive topic while you were predisposed to be cranky. Please, eat your toast.”

“Okay,” Nile says, wiping her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

***

Nile volunteers at the local animal shelter, because she never had a pet growing up and petting the cats keeps her busy. Nicky and Joe swear they don’t mind, and go off on their own to wander through LA’s museums, it’s parks, the neighborhoods. 

Most of the time when Nile gets back she finds them in the living room, reading or watching TV together. Sometimes they’re just talking quietly to each other, mostly in English, but occasionally in their old language. 

“... still think you’re cheating,” Joe says, as Nile kicks off her shoes in the hallway. 

“Who says I’m not?” Nicky asks. 

“You would take advantage of a helpless old man?”

“Would you rather learn from Booker?” Nicky asks. “Or suffer the tender mercies of Andromache and Quỳnh?”

Nile is honestly not sure what she expects, rounding the corner, but she’s relieved that it’s just the two of them on opposite ends of a Scrabble board.

“Haven’t I suffered enough?” Joe gripes, frowning down at his pieces, moving them around. “Haven’t I earned the right to spell things however I desire?”

Nicky huffs out a laugh. “Perhaps, but not in Scrabble.”

“What’s going on here?” Nile asks. 

“Joe can’t spell,” Nicky tells her. “Would you like to join? We’ve only just started, we could discount what points we already have.”

“Yes, please,” Joe mumbles.

“Sure,” Nile says, taking the chair in between them and helping herself to her own set of tiles. “You text fine, though.”

“Autocorrect makes it too easy to fix,” Joe grumbles. “How am I supposed to learn.” 

Joe lays out his letters, and Nicky shakes his head and says, “That’s not how you spell ‘people.’”

Joe curses, starting to pick them back up, but Nile reaches out and switches around the E and the O.

“Ha!” Joe says. 

“Now  _ that  _ is definitely cheating,” Nicky says. 

“ _ That  _ is the mark of a true friend, who does not have to resort to petty tricks in order to win,” Joe says. To Nile he adds, “It is tragic that he refuses to help because he knows he will lose.”

“That is not true,” Nicky protests. “I am just very dedicated to observing rules.”

He nearly manages to say it with a straight face, just the barest hint of an eyebrow raised that betrays how full of shit that statement is. The moment Joe starts to laugh Nicky cracks, and a wide smile spreads across his face. 

It’s only there for a moment, but it leaves Nile stunned. She didn’t know Nicky could smile like that, that the bags under his eyes could disappear. He died the youngest aside from her, but she didn’t figure that out until the last time they updated their ID cards and she looked at him again and realized that he doesn’t really look that much older than her, once you discounted the grief weighing him down. 

She only has consonants, but she’s always been good at making something out of what she has, and she lays down the X in AXLE on a triple letter score and Nicky abruptly looks a lot more worried.

“You know, I was thinking,” Nicky says later, when it’s clear that Nile is going to wipe the floor with both of them and some of his competitive zeal has left him. “I could live with you here, while you complete your degree. You could have a friend with you, and it would make things simpler for Joe in terms of spending time with the others.”

“That’s not necessary,” Joe says. 

Nicky frowns. “No, I suppose that would make it more difficult for you to visit Nile -”

“Nicky,” Joe says, clicking his fingers until Nicky looks at him. “It’s not a bad idea. I’m just saying, for me, it’s not necessary.”

“Oh,” Nicky says, gazing over at him with a look so open and vulnerable that Nile feels the urge to scooch her chair back a few inches to get out of the way. He looks down at his hands, schooling his expression. “Well. Well, it was an idea anyway, Nile.” He looks up at Nile and smiles, warmly, then back over to Joe, smiling the same way. 

***

In the end, Nile doesn’t have to take Nicky up on his offer. He and Joe probably speak to them about it while she’s not around, but by the start of the next term the entire team has moved into the house. 

“You guys don’t have to,” Nile tries to protest, when she walks into the room Andy and Quỳnh are sharing and finds that they’ve begun to redecorate in what can only be described as tasteful macabre. “Nonsense,” Quỳnh scoffs, while Andy adds, “We insisted on a house this big for a reason.” 

Nile has to admit, it’s nice. Joe borrows her art history books from her and experiments with different styles that he wasn’t around to see develop, and listens to her practice presentations and proofreads her essays. Andy has to be banned from reading the books, because she leaves little notes in the margins disparaging all the artist's personal lives, which is  _ fascinating _ and Nile is absolutely going to give her free reign - after her degree, not while Nile’s only trying to discuss their use of negative space.

They still take jobs, leaving Joe and Nile behind. After the disaster that happened last time no one is keen to let Joe anywhere near danger. Andy tells him he’s a liability right to his face if he ever starts to make noise about going with them, but Nile saw her expression after Joe sat them all down and went through the list he wrote with Booker. Things that should be avoided if he were to die, and his careful explanations for why he doesn’t want to be touched, or moved. They’re all on the same page.

Joe takes her out to dinner during one of the jobs, to an actual restaurant where the wait staff is dressed nicer than most of the patrons. Nile feels a little underdressed in her simple dress, but Joe is about as casual in a dress shirt and slacks, so she doesn’t let herself worry about it. Joe asks her gentle questions about how she’s feeling, whether she’s still thinking of trying to speed through degree or whether things have settled down. Nile still isn’t sure - her reasons for trying to speed things along haven’t changed, even if things are more manageable. 

It’s only when desert comes out, a tiramisu with a sparkler stuck in it, that Nile grasps the real reason behind this dinner. 

“Happy birthday,” Joe says, grinning at her. “I missed it last year, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t have to,” Nile says, but she’s starting to smile. The birthday attached to her current name was back in October, just in case anyone came looking for her. “I know it’s not a big deal anymore.”

“Who said that?” Joe asks. “They are all just jealous of us.” 

“You know your birthday?” 

“April 12th on your calendar.” Joe shrugs. “It was not really something that I ever celebrated, but I do know it.”

Nile takes a bite, pushing the plate towards Joe, who picks up his own fork. “It’s important to keep hold of things that make you who you are,” he says, before taking a bite. “Even if they do not seem important. Even if the rest of us do not understand.”

Nile nods. “I know.”

“I know you do,” Joe tells her. “You demanded your own path from Andromache. Do you know how long it took Nicky or I to disagree with her over something so simple as the choice of food for dinner?”

Nile laughs. Honestly that’s tough to picture, considering that Andy is perfectly happy to let Nicky cook whatever he wants.

“At least a decade,” Joe tells her. “And we had already been living for quite some time before we met them. So,” he says, lifting his glass to toast her. “To another year of Nile, being Nile. May she never be intimidated by those thousands of years older and wiser than her.”

God, she can’t imagine not knowing him. “Thank you,” she says, clinking their glasses together.

Joe doesn’t drink very often, isn’t always able to stand being slightly out of control, so he winds up a little tipsy by the end of the night, stumbling over his feet but still laughing about it. Nile drives them back when it’s time. 

“Stop the car,” Joe says, suddenly. 

Nile glances at him, startled, but pulls over to the side of the road. Joe jumps out of the car and starts sliding his hand over the seat, reaching down to the floor. “You drop something?” Nile asks. 

“Open the back,” Joe says. 

Nile pops the trunk and gets out of the car, watches in amazement as Joe actually climbs inside the little hatchback to feel around in the furthest corners. “We need to go back,” he says, when he comes back out, shaking a little. Nile doesn’t argue, just turns them around. 

Joe bursts into the restaurant, frantic. Nile and Joe had basically outlasted the dinner service - there’s only a handful of servers left, clearing the table settings. They all watch, startled, as Joe crouches down by the table and shines his phone underneath. 

Nile turns to the person nearest to the door. “Do you have a lost and found?”

“Yes,” they say. 

Joe crosses over to her. Nile lays a hand above his elbow. “A ring box?” she asks. “Blue?” 

Joe nods, tightly.

“One moment,” the staff member says, and disappears into the back. 

A few minutes later another person comes out. They hand over the box, and Joe flips it open and tips what’s inside into his palm. 

Nicky never shared that with her. If he ever looked inside it was never where Nile could see. 

It’s what’s left of a silver ring, tarnished and worn thin until it’s delicate and fragile. It doesn’t even connect all the way around. Joe heaves out a huge breath when he sees it, tracing the edge of it with his finger as though to convince himself it’s really there. 

“Thank you,” Nile tells the waitstaff, shoving down the urge to snap at them for staring, that it’s private, that it’s not for their eyes. “Let’s get outside,” she says to Joe.

Joe fumbles the sliver of metal back into the box, closing it with a snap and holding it between his hands. He presses his cupped hands to his lips and closes his eyes, breathing deeply and pacing in the way he does when he’s having trouble keeping calm. 

Nile heads over to the car and pulls out the jackets they brought, shrugging her own on and passing Joe’s to him. 

She sits on the benches out front and pulls out her phone to check in with the others, see how it’s going. She doesn’t get a response back from anyone, which probably means that it’s currently going. She scrolls back through and checks the dates for when they should be back - a couple days from now. She switches to email and lets her professors know she’ll be out of class for a few days.  **Family emergency, nothing too serious, just a scare** , she says, and leaves it at that.

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” he asks, when they make it back to the house. 

“‘Course,” Nile says. “I’ll be right there.” She brushes her teeth and changes into her pj’s and heads to Joe’s room. Booker’s bed is - surprisingly neat, actually, and his sheets smell fresher than hers, which is pretty humiliating. She resolves to listen the next time Nicky tries to lecture her about self-care.

Joe’s bed is made up with a thin sheet now, which is nice to see. He considers it for a long moment but eventually slides it off the bed, folding and placing it aside. 

“I did not mean for your birthday to end like this,” he says, once he turns out the light and settles into bed. 

“Definitely not the worst birthday I’ve had,” Nile tells him. “I once threw up on the teacup ride at Cedar Point. Had to walk around the rest of the day with puke on my shirt.”

“Ah,” Joe says.

Nile turns over to look at him. “Thank you,” she says. “For today. It was nice. Really nice.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

***

Joe gets reacquainted with death via a car accident on the way back from the zoo.

Nile doesn’t see it. It had been just an outing for him and Quỳnh, on a weekday, to watch the animals when there were fewer crowds. It didn’t happen far from home. They walk back, once they recover. Quỳnh’s phone survived - she calls Andy to let her know what happened and cries the whole time, and she’s still crying when they enter through the front door, repeating, “I’m sorry, Joe, Joe, I’m sorry,” 

Andy grabs her arm and Quỳnh collapses into her. Joe walks through the house and finds Nicky sitting on the couch. He plants his hands on either side of Nicky’s shoulders and leans down towards him. Nicky fists his hands into the fabric of the couch so hard that his knuckles turn white. “Joe?”

“Nicolò,” Joe says. 

Nicky tilts his head up. “Whatever you need,” he says quietly. “It’s yours.”

Joe collapses onto him and buries his face in Nicky’s neck. Nicky shudders and turns into him, pressing his lips into Joe’s hair. His hands are still clenched into the couch. “Tell me,” he murmurs. “Joe, tell me, I can’t -”

Joe murmurs something, too quiet and muffled for Nile to hear. 

“You asked me not to, remember?” Nicky says. 

“Please.”

Nicky sucks in a breath. “I love you,” he says, turning into Joe a little more. 

That’s Nile’s cue. She grabs Booker, who's staring at this scene like he’s watching a fascinating and nauseating nature documentary and flees to the entryway. 

Andy and Quỳnh are still just inside the door, huddled close together. Andy is stroking a hand through Quỳnh’s hair. “What happened?” Booker asks. 

“I pulled him out but,” Quỳnh begins, wiping her eyes. “We were still so  _ close,  _ and I knew people would be coming, so I - when he came back, he was screaming so loudly I -” she puts both hands over her mouth and presses down, hard, a demonstration. She shudders, and her eyes fill with fresh tears. “I - I didn’t -”

Andy hushes her. 

“I’ve never heard him like that before,” Quỳnh says. “So - so -”

Booker looks at Nile grimly and she knows they’re both thinking of the helpless, agonized screams they remember from the ocean, when voicing his pain was all he had. Nile’s been woken by Joe’s nightmares, has had to witness a few panic attacks but they’ve never, ever come close to the misery of what they had to see.

There’s a soft noise from upstairs, too muffled to be anything distinct. “C’mon,” Andy says, jerking her head toward the door. 

They don’t come back until well after dinner. They all wait awkwardly in the entryway, trying to avoid eye contact, until Andy groans. “What’s the worst they could be doing?” she says, and leads the way, like always. 

They’re just lying together on the couch. Nicky’s shirt is gone, but Joe still has the same bloody clothes on. His head is resting against Nicky’s chest, eyes closed, breathing evenly. Nile can’t tell whether he’s asleep, or listening to Nicky hum. Nicky doesn’t look up as they file past them towards their rooms, just keeps his eyes fixed at the top of Joe’s head as he rubs his thumb along the base of Joe’s neck.

Nicky comes into the room he shares with Nile in the very early hours of the morning. Nile wakes up and watches him pull on his sleep shirt and switch his jeans out for sweatpants. She props her head up on her hand. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Nicky whispers, when he sees her. 

“Can’t really sleep,” Nile says, which is true. “Is Joe okay?”

Nicky looks down as his jeans, folded in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. He heads back out of their room.

When she gets up for class Joe is asleep on the sofa. Nicky is leaned against it, one arm outstretched, his hand and Joe’s tangled against Joe’s chest. 

They sleep that way every night for more than a week, and things aren’t that different during the day. Joe is very quiet, only answering questions when Nicky asks if he’s hungry, if he’s tired, if he needs anything. For the most part they just sit on the couch together, Joe curled around him with his face turned into Nicky’s stomach while Nicky reads aloud and traces Joe’s hairline with his thumb.

The day it stops Nile was out late at a birthday party she went to with one of her college friends. She sees the empty couch while she’s sucking down a glass of water. When she heads into the bedroom she nearly has a heart attack at the sight of Nicky looming over his bed with the lights off, hands on his hips.

Nile pulls out her phone to check the time. It’s nearly two. “Nicky?” she says. 

He turns toward her slowly. “Hmm?”

“How long have you been standing there?”

He blinks. “Standing?” he repeats. He looks down at the bed. “Oh,” he says. “I see.”

He climbs beneath the covers, and stares up at the ceiling instead while Nile gets ready for bed.

The next morning, Nicky walks up to Joe in the kitchen while they’re all eating breakfast together and cups Joe’s cheek. He doesn’t say anything.

Joe looks back at him. “I asked for too much?”

Nicky frowns and shakes his head, running his thumb over Joe’s cheek.

Joe nods. “But now, you need some time?”

Nicky nods. 

“I’ll be alright,” Joe murmurs. “You can go. Thank you.”

Nicky is his usual self when he comes back a week later, if a little on the quieter side. He smiles at Joe, asks him if there’s anything he needs. When Joe shakes his head, Nicky nods and reaches into his bag, pulling out a paint-by-numbers kit. “I had a thought,” he explains as he sets it down at Joe’s elbow, “that if you were not feeling very creative this might help.”

“Oh,” Joe says. 

“I need to shower,” Nicky says, and heads down the hallway. 

Joe places a hand on the kit and stares at it. “Joe, you good?” Booker asks. 

“Yes,” Joe says. 

***

Joe is a little weird for the next few weeks, slipping away at odd times without telling anyone where he’s going. He always answers when Booker calls him to yell at him for taking off with no notice, but it’s strange that he does it in the first place.

One evening, during their somewhat regular movie night, Joe stands and follows Nicky into the kitchen when he goes to get more popcorn. “Nicky,” Nile hears Joe say, softly. 

There’s a loud crack, and they all turn around, startled, reaching out for their weapons. Nicky is kneeling on the floor, gazing up at Joe’s face, past the two small boxes held out in his hands. It was Booker’s choice to pick, so the indie french film he chose plays uninterrupted in the background, throwing different colors onto their faces.

“I thought that was my move,” Joe says.

“Joe,” Nicky murmurs. “No. Don’t do this to me, please. Not if you aren’t sure.”

Joe looks down at his hands. “I’m sure.”

“Oh boy, here we go,” Andy says. “Book, Nile. Brace yourselves.” Quỳnh shushes her.

“I can’t promise anything,” Joe says. “There will be times when I need to push you away again. I can’t -”

“Joe,” Nicky breathes.

“It’s going to be -”

“I don’t care about the difficulty,” Nicky says. 

“No,” Joe says. “You need to understand. I don’t know if we can ever return to what we had before.”

Nicky reaches up and touches the back of Joe’s hands with his fingers, so gently, so reverently. “All I could dream for is to find out what we could have together, now. To discover it by your side.” 

Joe kneels down and presses one of the boxes into Nicky’s hands. Nicky opens it. It’s too dark and they’re too far away for Nile to see what’s inside, but she can see Nicky’s face soften as he takes it in. “Is this…”

“You did not lose it,” Joe says. “Mine was lost, but you kept it, for us.”

“For you,” Nicky says. 

“For  _ us _ .”

“Joe,” Nicky breathes.

“I thought it was a fitting metaphor,” Joe tells him. “That it became so fragile over the years, but you never let it disappear. So it is with my love for you. And now we have a chance to transition it into something new. Perhaps different, but it can be as strong as before.”

Nicky collapses in on himself, crying. “Oh,  _ God _ ,” he sobs. “ _ Joe.” _

Joe takes one of his hands and brings it up to his lips. “You have not given me an answer.”

Nicky gets himself back under control, wiping away his tears. “I’m yours, Joe,” Nicky tells him, shakily. “However you’ll have me, I’m yours. But - please. Promise me I can love you again. Promise me I don’t have to shutter away that part of myself.”

Joe shakes his head. “I will not ask that of you again. I’m sorry I had to.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nicky says. “I know it was necessary.” He takes a deep breath and reaches up to cup Joe’s face with both hands. “To do this will mean that we will hurt each other,” Nicky says. “I will make mistakes, or cross a line that wasn’t there the day before. And the boundaries will hurt me - I will not be able to hide it from you.”

Joe nods. “I know.” He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Nicky’s mouth. “You are worth it, my love.”

Nicky sputters out a disbelieving laugh. He holds out his hand. “Go on, then.”

Joe slides the ring onto his finger, and Nicky presses a hand over his mouth and begins to weep again as Joe opens the other box and fumbles another ring onto his own finger.

Quỳnh stands up, pulling Andy with her. “Let’s go.” 

Booker and Nile look at each other, and in the end it’s Booker who folds, disappearing into his own room only long enough to grab the essentials before getting into Nicky’s bed. 

***

There is no wild transition, no marked change that Nile can see. Booker and Nicky trade rooms but Nile knows that they’re still sleeping apart, since Joe doesn’t like to sleep with the door closed, and Nicky spends a fair amount of nights on the couch anyway. They don’t kiss, they don’t hold hands. They don’t sit next to each other in the car or at the table anymore frequently than they did before. It seems like the only change is the rings they both wear, a thick black band with just the barest strip of silver inlaid through the center. 

Nile tries not to worry or wonder about it too hard - and it’s nearing her finals week, anyway, so it’s not that difficult. 

The first morning after she finishes, when she gets up and realizes that she has no class to get to, and she can just enjoy her morning coffee for once, Joe is already out of his room and most of the way through his coffee. He finishes it and his toast, before kneeling down by the couch and gently shaking Nicky awake. 

“Mmm,” Nicky says, as he stirs. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Joe says back, smiling at him. 

“I see you have already had your coffee,” Nicky says, fondly. 

“Would you like me to get you some?”

“No, that’s alright,” Nicky says. “Let me just look at you for a little while. You are very beautiful today.”

Jesus Christ. Nile manages not to give herself third degree burns from spilt coffee, but she does feel a burning desire to not be a morning person anymore.

“You can do more than look,” Joe says, moving in closer and resting his chin on the couch. Nicky hums and reaches out, slipping his hand into Joe’s hair. 

“Thank you for the space last night, my love,” Joe says.

“Anything for you, hayati,” Nicky says. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“No nightmares?”

“No.”

“Wonderful,” Nicky says. 

Joe takes Nicky’s hand out of his hair and kisses his palm. “I love you,” he says. “Let me bring you some coffee.”

“Will you let me look at you while I drink it?”

Joe laughs, and nods. 

“Then, I will allow it,” Nicky says. “But hurry, please.”

Joe stands and comes back into the kitchen, whistling, as he starts to make another coffee. He smiles and winks at Nile. Nile smiles back, because it’s Joe and she loves him, and seeing him this cheerful in the morning is impossible not to smile at. And then she flees back to her room. 

Booker is awake, lying on his bed and playing some game on his phone. He raises his eyebrows when she comes in with what’s left of her breakfast. “Joe and Nicky up?”

“You could have warned me,” Nile hisses.

“You expect me to try to explain  _ that?”  _ Booker asks. 

Nile sits down on her bed. “I guess not. That’s them when they’re having problems? I mean, I know they’re not  _ problems _ , problems, but - that’s them after Nicky’s spent the night on the  _ couch _ ?”

“Maybe it’s a honeymoon period,” Booker says. “They did just get married. Maybe. Kind of.”

Nile stares at him, and Booker sighs. “No, you’re right. Andy and Quỳnh say this is pretty tame. We’re just gonna have to get used to it.”

“Well,” Nile says slowly, staring at her coffee. “At least they don’t flirt like Andy and Quỳnh.”

Booker looks startled, and laughs. “You’re right, there is that.” He sits up and pushes his hair away from his face. “I guess I’ll go get breakfast.”

“You know what, I’ll go with you,” Nile says. Eating toast off her knees is dumb when there’s a perfectly good kitchen table to sit at. 

Andy and Quỳnh are up now too, and it’s crowded in the kitchen with all of them squished together. Nicky smiles at her knowingly when she puts her half eaten plate of food back on the table, and looks a teensy bit apologetic. Joe also eyes her knowingly, but doesn’t look sorry about it at all. 

“So,” Andy says. “Nile. Are you still thinking of graduating early? I’ve been told I need to assure you that there’s no rush.”

Quỳnh tuts at her. 

Andy grunts into her coffee, but she puts it down and says, a little more sincerely: “There’s no rush.”

“Actually, no,” Nile says slowly. “I was thinking of taking some ceramic art classes. It’s not something I could ever try before and I don’t know if I’ll be any good, but I think it would be fun.”

They all make approving noises, even Andy, and Nile smiles into her coffee and takes a sip and makes a face when she realizes it’s gone cold. Nicky gets up to top it off with some fresh from the carafe, and Nile looks around at them all clustered together and says, “I really love you guys. I don’t know if I’ve said.”

Quỳnh twists in her seat, and gives her a hug. Next to her, Andy looks touched, which is slightly terrifying. 

Booker snorts. “Oh, great, Joe comes back and now none of us can stop declaring our love for each other,” he says, very sarcastically; which is pretty rich from a guy who started calling Joe  _ brother _ before they ever had a real conversation in person, and who Nile saw crying three weeks ago while he was trying to tell Nicky how happy he was for him.

“My love has that effect,” Nicky says, smiling at Joe. Joe leans towards him and kisses him very gently on the temple.

Nicky looks back at Nile. “It is as I told you, when we first met,” he says. “We are all meant to be together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! They've made it! They've worked through the issues! or at least a lot of the way through many of the issues. Obviously they still have a long way to go and more ways to evolve, but if I tried to write through every set up and eroding boundary I would be here for five thousand years. I may mess around with an epilogue of how things end up later down the line, but I am considering this finished for now, even though I am sorry about the scarcity of sweet affirming kisses 😔
> 
> I do hope I have resolved things satisfactorily! Making something this dramatic and fraught was a... choice.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://deanniker-wastingtime.tumblr.com/) losing control of my life, if that's something you're into.


End file.
